Let's Be Still
by bechlxe
Summary: Beca Mitchell is falling back into a vicious cycle that took over her life as a teenager, but a cute red head may be the source of stability she needs to give herself hope. A somewhat angst-y Beca x Chloe fanfiction. I should put a trigger warning on this as well, so if you're viciously craving angst, here you go. M, because triggers.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hello reader! I am a Bechloe shipper and I have decided to take out my stress by battling writing a fanfiction about a relationship that should be canon. I should warn you that there is a trigger warning, but for this chapter, it is not so serious and if I was okay writing it, I believe you will probably be okay reading it. If you're worried, just don't read it. :D I hope you enjoy it. I also apologize in ahead of time for any typos. It's currently 3:36 AM and I am having trouble sleeping.**

**Also, I do not own Pitch Perfect. Otherwise, Bechloe would be canon, wouldn't it? :D**

**Also also, the title of this story comes from a song by The Head and the Heart titled "Let's Be Still". So that doesn't belong to me either.**

**Enjoy!**

Beca Mitchell's life had never been anything that would be considered easy. Her dad, being a teacher, had always seemed to put kids he wasn't even related to before his own kin. Mrs. Mitchell, on the other hand, was Beca's right hand man; she was always there to support her daughter when she was in need (which was often the case during her early teenage years). But ever since Mrs. Mitchell had lost her parents in a tragic accident involving a deer, something not typically fatal, she grew absent. Her love for her daughter never died; it just didn't seem to be there anymore. She relied on alcohol to deal with the pain she felt on a daily basis. Though their relationship was never was abusive, the lack of emotion and life that she had hurt Beca on a deep emotional level.

After the accident, Beca took a gap year after graduating high school to be by her grieving mother's side. She began to resemble a shell. It never got better with time, and eventually, Dr. Mitchell decided that there was nothing more Beca could do. He forced her to attend the college he taught at while Mrs. Mitchell stayed with an aunt.

What Beca's father did not know (being that he divorced Beca's mother 9 months before the accident and never visiting) is that Beca's problems from the past had resurfaced. The rock she had to hold onto turned into a mere pebble, swept away by the waves of grief that overcame her as she drowned in alcohol.

The Mitchells had sent Beca to a therapist as a young teenager. The problems gradually became less prominent. She became her old self again.  
But without her mother being there, and actually being there, the dark cloud hung above her head again and everything had gone spiraling downward from then on.

Beca had nearly settled into her dorm with her antisocial and curt flatmate, Kimmy Jin, when Dr. Mitchell walked in.

"Dad, I really don't want to be here,"

"Becs, there's nothing else you can do. Your mom is with Aunt Natalia and you're here, getting a college education. For free, might I add."

"Do you not understand that music is my life? That making music is what I am destined to do? Or are you too busy fucking your coworkers to come home once and a while and see that?"

"You know that's definitely not true. Sure, maybe I've made my mistakes when it comes to Mom, but I've grown. Anyway, we have been separated for awhile. I've remarried, now. Remarried, with a stable wife, a stable job, and a stable child." He emphasized the word stable so nonchalantly, mocking Mrs. Mitchell's downfall.

The last one hurt Beca. Her own father hadn't noticed that she was stuck in a pitfall.. Not that she expected him to notice, but she wanted him to more than anything. She had no one else to turn to.

"I need to make music, Dad. Is it that hard to comprehend? You're a teacher. You can't be that big of an idiot. Why are you ignoring me like you ignored Mom when she needed it?"

"If you can make it through this one year of college, you can go off to LA. Become P Diddy, if you really must. I'll help you pay for it. But you need to be involved. Join a club, do well in your classes. You know what I expect of you. You're a smart girl, Becs. Don't waste it by pursuing a hobby."

"Fine, dad. You'd better follow through, because this isn't a game to me. But now my new friend Kimmy Jin and I are going to the activities fair."

At the activities fair, nothing stood out to Beca. She thought she had found her place when she had found a stand that said "DJ" on it, but unless she was a "Deaf Jew," she definitely didn't belong there.

After meandering around the painfully boring activities fair, she had finally found something - well, someone - interesting. At one of the acapella group tables, two girls were trying to recruit singers for the Barden Bellas. She had no interest in singing Mariah Carey chart toppers, but she did have an interest in getting to know the red haired, blue eyed girl that was running the table.

"I don't really sing," Beca lied as she tried to suppress her infatuation for a girl she had never even spoke to before. She couldn't have been in love. Love doesn't happen like that. It was lust; love doesn't happen so suddenly.

After Beca had told the girls that singing acapella was pretty lame, she felt as if she'd kicked a puppy. The look in the beautiful ginger's eyes was enough to make anyone want to rip their heart out of their chest. She had deeply hurt her, she thought. She had insulted something this flawless girl, whoever she was, was passionate about. She found that it was her time to leave, and walked away, hating herself for the remainder of the day.

After mixing a few songs to distract herself from the self-loathing she felt, she decided maybe a shower would help her relax since even music wasn't. She grabbed her basket of toiletries and made her way to the showers, assuming they would be empty being that it was nearly 2 in the morning.

She sand her own rendition of David Guetta's "Titanium," assuming she was alone, and got into the shower. While she rummaged through her basket of shampoos and other shower items, she came upon her razor that she kept on the very bottom; the razor that bought from an art store. They were always the best, though the hardest to get her hands on.

Every thought from the day rushed through her - primarily the bad ones - she she was overwhelmed with guilt.  
_Your mother is hurting and you're not there to help her.  
You insulted her... For no reason. Someone you didn't even know. You don't know what they're fucking dealing with. Maybe acapella helps her like mixing music helps you.  
Your roommate hates you. Don't forget about that.  
Your father thinks you're a failure.  
You ARE failure._

She dropped to her knees when the thoughts hit her like a train; she had almost started crying and taking it out on herself on thigh when she heard footsteps approaching. She collected herself as she had trained herself to do (after many a close call), and felt exposed when the angelic red head had opened the shower curtain. She had almost been caught by this stranger. Her heart was in her throat.

"You were singing David Guetta, right? You _CAN_ sing!"

Trying to act as naturally as possible, she, with disbelief, asked the girl if she really knew who David Guetta was.

"Of course I know who David Guetta is. Have I been living under a rock?"

She went on about how "Titanium" was her "lady jam" which made Beca uncomfortable. She didn't hate it, though. She was naked in the shower. Naked in the shower with a very fit girl.

"Sing it for me? I'm not leaving until you sing."

She said no at first. After puppy eyes, she could not resist (especially because she had already offended her by insulting one of her hobbies). Hesitantly, Beca began to sing. Soon after, the ginger girl chimed in with her heaven-sent voice. After finishing the song, the red head finally told her her name.

"I'm Chloe, by the way. Chloe Beale. And since we know we live in the same building, I really hope we will see a lot of each other. Also, auditions are tomorrow, and I'm going to see you there," she said with a smirk.

"..I'll see you there," she repeated as she walked away without giving Beca a chance to respond.

**I hope this satisfied you for now. I will hopefully update this speedily.. if you really would like me to. If not, I probably will anyway. Goodbye, bud, and keep your head up :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, again. I don't really know what I think of this chapter; I can't wait until there is actual, real Bechloe action. But I can't satisfy us quite yet. I sincerely apologize. **

**I also apologize for this chapter. It may be triggering and if you're afraid of it, just skip what's between the dashes. I think you're smart enough to figure it out, right? Right. **

**Also, this is quite short. I know. But we don't always get what we want. **

The day of rehearsals, the last thing Beca wanted to do was attend. She was not, nor would she ever, be in the mood to do choreography while singing an all-female pop song from 1989. That was down at the bottom of her bucket list, lingering near dating boys and watching movies.

This ended soon, though, when she heard a knock and a familiar voice right outside of her door.

It wasn't a female voice that she heard: it was her father, whom she planned on avoiding as much as possible. As he barged in, she immediately regretted not going to audition for the Bellas.

"Hey kiddo, how's it going? Have you found a club yet?"

"Yeah dad, I have actually. I'm leaving right now to audition for the Bellas or whatever."

"A cappella? You?"

"Yes, dad. Me. I'm audition for a nationally-ranked a cappella group since I'm stuck in this shithole."

"You are getting a good education for free. This isn't a shithole. The real shithole is your mother's house, Becs."

"It might have not been fun being there with mom like that, but I would rather be there than here, unable to chase _my_ dream. I need to fulfill yours.

On that note, I'm leaving. Send the step-monster my worst, to be honest."

With that, she grabbed her jacket and stormed out the door, slamming it.

_I cannot believe this is real. I am auditioning for a female a cappella group. A group of girls who cover cheesy ballads by making noises, when I could be in a studio mixing songs that people will actually want to listen to. Things that they wouldn't listen to if they wanted to, say, take a nap or kill themselves._

She walked by a group of freshman who were talking about their auditions.

"Hated the song. Never liked "Since U Been Gone" and the lack of backup dancers made it even worse. Barden Bellas will be begging for me though, just watch."

_There was a song? God fucking dammit._

She approached the side of the stage with a churning stomach. Auditions had just ended and Bella somehow felt a very heavy weight fly off her shoulders.

This was, of course, until she heard a voice interject with "Oh wait, there's one more!" and gesture to her to walk to center stage.

_Rad._

"I didn't know I had to prepare that song.." she admitted.

"It's okay," the cute senior said with a smile that could cure cancer, "play whatever you want."

Beca took the cup from the table and spilled its contents out, making the other girl at the table, a blonde, very unhappy.

She started to play a song on the cup she took, nearly tripping up multiple times because of Chloe. The ginger was making direct eye contact with her most of the time. It wasn't a discomforting eye contact; this eye contact caused Beca to become completely lost.

_Holy shit, who is this girl? And what is she doing to me?_

She hurriedly scurried out of auditions, rushed to her dorm room and curled up in her bed, butterflies slamming into the walls of her stomach. She had never felt like this before, about anyone. This girl was something else. Beca could not stop thinking about her, and eventually fell asleep.

—

A few hours later, Beca woke up from a nightmare. It was the normal one she had always gotten: her mother had attempted suicide and she had witnessed it. But in the dream, she was trapped. Like when you try to run in a dream, but can't move. She was trapped in the same position and had no control; she could only watch her mother's life drain out of her. As much as she talked about this dream to her therapist, it kept returning.

As always, it triggered her. As if it were clockwork, she groggily — and nearly subconsciously — walked to her desk and rummaged around until she found her razor. She did not take time to admire it; she just pulled her jeans down far enough and violently sliced at her thigh until she was able to organize her thoughts.

The second she had returned from her trance, she looked at the damage she had done. She had done worse. Finally, she had realized she was alone, which is what she should have checked for first. She got lucky, this time, and realized how much shit she could have gotten herself into. Living with a roommate was going to be hard if this was going to happen.

—

She dressed her wounds and sat in front of her computer, feeling horrible that she had lost self-control again. All she could feel was regret, so she decided to make a mix to distract herself; was a mix about Chloe: the girl she wanted in her life more than anyone.

Before starting, she checked her phone, and saw a message from a number she hadn't recognized:

_Your audition was great. Who knew you could sing like that?_

This would have made Beca extremely uncomfortable.. if only it didn't fill her with joy.

**I warned you that it was short. I also didn't particularly like this chapter, but I've got ideas coming. Don't doubt me. I've got not only angst up my sleeve, but loads of comfort as well. **

**I hope you had a wonderful New Year and I hope you are starting off 2014 right!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! I'm sorry. I took a little unannounced hiatus. Anyway, this chapter is probably going to be what you expected it to be. But it was necessary! It's also completely clean of all things triggering, so that's a plus. Or a minus, if you were hoping for it. Which I don't know why you would? I'm not sure how short this is. I wanted to save the date for the next chapter, so I guess this is considered a filler. Whatever. It's something.**

**Anyway, enjoy.**

_Oh, well, thanks. _

That was all Beca had to say in reply. Not that she wasn't happy to be acknowledged by this girl, but she was wary around everyone. Losing people was what she considered her forte.

_You really were great. Do you think we could go for coffee sometime?_

How the _fuck_ was Beca supposed to respond to this? It was so spontaneous and she wanted this so badly, but she didn't know how to respond. She had a habit of picking herself apart; every move she made was full of mistakes. At least in her mind, everything seemed to be able to be improved on.

_That sounds all right. _

Beca thought about how curt that sounded and tried not to tear herself apart too much. After there was no reply for a half hour, Beca began to grow more worried. She started to type out a new message about how she hadn't meant to sound so blunt and angry, and how she was sorry and about how she really did want to go for coffee until her phone vibrated again with a response.

_Like, soon? Does tomorrow sound good?_

She deleted the draft of her apology and contemplated how she could reply without sound too eager, but also without sounding too nonchalant.

_Tomorrow sounds great. _She started off with. That was too curt for her, so she decided to continue. _I have to meet with my dad tomorrow morning, though, but I should be done by 11:30. _She lied, trying to make herself look eager, but not desperate. _Where do you want to meet?_

_You live in Baker, right? I live in the dorm right near it. I can meet you at that one door on the side, yeah? The coffee shop is right down the alley outside of that door :)_

_See you then._

That night, after continuing to work on the Chloe mix, Beca went to bed somewhat content. There was nothing to lament about. She was going on a date with this girl she was head over heels for. But, Beca being Beca, thought about everything that could possibly go wrong.

_What if I offend her again? What if she's straight? What if she's not single and this is just her way of getting to know me? What if she just wants me in this a cappella group? If it's a prank.. What will she do?_

Her mind went on like this, thinking about ridiculous circumstances, until she finally was able to fall asleep.

The following morning, Beca woke up at an oddly early time. Her first class isn't until the afternoon, so she hardly wakes up before 10:30. She woke up at 8:45, and oddly enough, felt well rested. It seemed that since middle school, no matter how much sleep she got, she was always tired. She could have gone to bed at 8 PM and woke up at noon the next day, and feel exhausted, physically and mentally.

This day was different. It was oddly empowering.

Since she still had a few hours, she decided to work on her mix a little more. When she sat down to remind herself of how far she had gotten, she made the mistake of not plugging in her headphones. Her Mac was nearly all the way turned up, and the music woke Kimmy Jin.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry Kimmy Jin."

After a very hostile groan, Kimmy Jin quickly fell back to sleep.

Beca lost herself in her mix.

The clock his 10:25 when she realized she hadn't eaten or showered yet. She was confused when she remembered she hadn't eaten.. because she was hungry. She was hungry at 10 in the morning; she was hardly ever hungry in the morning, only on the good days. Good days were far and few. So far, this was one of those few days.

Beca ran to the showers and rushed herself to get done. The last thing she wanted to be was late.

**Yes, I ****_am_**** stopping here. Cliffhangers are shitty, huh? Sorry. I also apologize again for the little hiatus. School is a bummer. Anyway, personally, I made Beca do what I would do (the overthinking thing) because I feel like more people would relate. Thank you for reading and being patient. I got updates sometimes in class that people had favorited or followed this, and smiled. Thank you! I don't even think this is all that good or well put together, but I'm glad some people find it bearable. Until next time!**


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